


Rescue

by Acidqueen



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 23:37:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10729641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acidqueen/pseuds/Acidqueen
Summary: A Geth does SAR duty in San Francisco's Chinatown.





	Rescue

**Author's Note:**

> This is an un-beta'd work that I'd originally posted to tumblr "just because". I may do more with this character, because I think I have a good idea here.

A solitary trooper moved through the ruined landscape, through what was once a vibrant city of hills and bridges and people and colour.

All data it had been given about this city indicated that at this time of year, the area was prone to thick fog rolling in from the bay. Fortunately, its optical sensors were able to see through the pea-soup haze that had settled over the city, which made its work invaluable to the humans that it had volunteered to help. Historical data described natural disasters that had befallen the city long before the Reapers had invaded, calamities and misfortunes that the city had overcome with time and hard work. It was fascinated by the resiliency of the city’s residents, and made a note to see if this was a local cultural quirk or a characteristic that was intrinsic to humanity.

It stopped on a street corner, next to the entrance to a small hilltop park in the area that locals called “Chinatown”. The entrance to the park was bracketed by two fu-lion sculptures. The trooper searched its databanks, and found that these were considered bringers of fortune by the humans who lived in this neighbourhood. One of the sculptures was off-center. The trooper carefully repositioned the sculpture, and judged that the base was heavily damaged and would not last much longer. It made a note to fashion a replacement when it had time, and kept moving.

There were few infrared signatures in the ruined buildings–all local animals, rather than humans. The Reapers had been quite thorough–something that made the trooper feel sadness for the first time since it had received the gift of sapience. It emitted a sound that was somewhat like a sigh, a reaction that it judged appropriate given what it had learned about organic emotional processes. A new emotion rose behind the sadness. The trooper carefully pondered it for several seconds, consulted its databanks again, and judged that this new feeling–the desire to help rebuild this city so that it would become vibrant and colourful again–was determination.

Its audio sensors suddenly picked up muffled cries from a nearby building. The trooper scanned the building, and picked up an infrared signature on the second floor. It also noted that the building was structurally unsound and that collapse was imminent. It entered on the ground floor, optics scanning the stairs. They were sound and would support its weight. The trooper ascended the stairs as quickly as it could while not causing damage, and tracked the sound to one of the apartments. It opened the door and looked down at a crying human child–a girl–that was hunched over the body of a man that the trooper judged was her father. It took a moment for the trooper’s language-interpretation software to process what the child was saying through her tears, but when the interpreter synced, the trooper felt more sadness.

The child was speaking Mandarin, begging her father to wake up. The trooper took a step forward, and the child spun around, frozen with terror. It knelt next to the child and scanned the man with its omni-tool. He was alive, but his electrolyte levels were dangerously low and he was extremely dehydrated. The trooper scooped up the man’s body in its arms and looked at the little girl, setting its interpreter software so that it was speaking to her in Mandarin. “This building is not safe. Will you come with me?” The child’s eyes widened. “Please,” the trooper said. It stood and walked out the door of the apartment without waiting for an answer. It judged that the child would follow, a judgement that was affirmed when it heard little feet thudding down the stairs behind it. The trooper carried the man to the park and laid him down on a stone bench. It took off its backpack, then took out two bottles–one of plain water, and a larger bottle of an electrolyte solution–followed by a medkit.

The backpack had been salvaged from a ruined storefront on an earlier expedition to a nearby city. The trooper had decided to keep it, seeing the value in being able to carry items, both salvaged and otherwise, that it judged would be of usefulness.

The child gasped when the trooper slid the medkit’s IV needle into her father’s arm and taped it down. The trooper erected a camera tripod that it had salvaged from another building, and attached the electrolyte bottle to it while sending its location and a situation report to the nearest Prime. It looked over at the child, and patted the section of the bench next to her father.

The trooper offered the child the bottle of water, then fished out an MRE from its backpack. It opened the sealed box and offered it to her as well. The little girl looked at the small fork that came with the meal. The trooper raised an eyeflap, an action that made her tip her head to one side and give him a quizzical look. Another search of its databanks yielded a cultural tidbit that the trooper associated with another item that it had found in the ruins of a restaurant. It reached into its pack again and brought out a slim paper packet, and handed the packed to the little girl. She tore open the packet and took out two slim sticks, which she used to eat the MRE.

The sounds of an aircraft made the trooper look up–an Alliance shuttle was incoming with medics on board. It looked back at the little girl, who had crumbs and sauce on her face and hands from her meal. It searched its databanks again, then reached over to deftly pluck the wet-nap from the box. It opened the packet and took out the damp towelette, and gently cleaned the girl up. “I must go,” it said. The sound of the shuttle was loud enough now for the child to hear. “There are people coming to assist you further.” It closed its backpack and put it on, then stood.

“What’s your name?” The little girl had judged that the trooper was friendly. The trooper raised an eyeflap, making the girl giggle. “You’re funny,” she said. The trooper searched its databanks in an attempt to find a name that was suitable. It found its answer in a piece of ancient human pop-culture.

“MacGyver,” the trooper said. The shuttle came in to land, and as a pair of medics hopped out to tend to the little girl and her father, the trooper turned and resumed its search through the streets of San Francisco.


End file.
